You and me | Stanford Pines x Reader
request: "Do you feel comfortable writing a Stanford Pines x Reader? Just something cute and fluffy. I was thinking a College Age Stanford meeting the reader at some party Fiddleford forced him to go to and they’re both shy but they both like science and Ford develops a crush on them."
''Could you repeat the reason why I agreed to come with you?''
Fiddleford shrugged, muttering something that Pines was unable to make out under the raucous music blasting from the sorority house. A heavy, repetitive tune; the kind of music an appellant might come to like, not him. Stanford wasn't cut out for this sort of thing, but his best friend had been urging him on for a full month, even before the national baseball team's shindig was confirmed. It was even strange coming from McGucket.
He looked considerably nervous, but no less willing to let himself be led through the crowd toward the center of the common room. Ford tried to keep up with him—almost impossible, with so many arms and legs around him; so much shouting too close to his ears, leaving him lost for moments. The colored lights and the smell of raw sweat were making him sick to his stomach. Were it not for Fiddleford's sure grip dragging him into a safe shoving corner, Pines could have sworn he almost ended up a carpet on the floor.
''I really need you to repeat the reason,'' Ford shouted between heavy breaths, leaning on his friend's shoulder, ''because I still don't understand my own reasoning. This is insane!’’
''It's just a party!'' McGucket let out a forced laugh, trying to move his body to the beat of the new song bursting on the players. His eyes darted from one side of the room to the other. ''We have to understand their vibe and let ourselves go!''
''This is ridiculous,'' Ford breathed, adjusting his glasses. ''I think I'm going to—''
''—get a drink!'' Fiddleford nodded briskly, beginning to point a hand towards the free bar of drinks at the other end of the dance floor. ''I'll get you a drink!''
Stanford wanted to refuse immediately, but as soon as he prepared his throat to shout again, he noticed that his friend had already thrust half his body between the dancing couples; his legs kicked in all directions, seeking to propel himself among the people tempted by laughter. An occasional woman, unknown to Ford's eyes, had even extended an arm around McGucket's shoulders. Pines knew on a hunch that he wasn't going to see his friend again for a long while.
It's not like he could leave the party either. He wasn't going to leave him alone just like that.
Stanford hugged himself in the corner, leaning his back against the wall to let himself be devoured by the gloom. Occasionally he held his breath, if anything many people crossed his path with the dreadful aroma of alcohol and cigarette on them; other times he simply kept up a pleasant chat until the person in question fell defeated on the floor. At least two hours would have passed like this.
Fiddleford had disappeared, though occasionally his screams reached him through the music. He was clearly having too much fun; so much of that, that after a couple of disposable glasses, he seemed to have forgotten that his friend was still hibernating in a corner of the room.
Ford couldn't feel angry no matter how much he wanted to. The situation was certainly stressful, but particularly funny. At least this was something he could remind McGucket of when the weight of such a wild night fell on his shoulders in the morning.
"I guess that's your partner over there.”
Ford swore he heard the crunch of his own neck above the music as he turned his head to the side. Your sudden appearance, so close to his body, took him by surprise. He hadn't even gotten to see you out of the corner of his eye.
You were nervous, much more than your voice already denoted; the broken and clumsy words when you let them out. The tiny bottle in your hands trembled as if about to fall.
You licked your lips, pointing your head toward the dance floor. Ford's face merged with the red lights of the crystal ball.
“Ah,” he sighed with a faint smile, “yes, he’s my friend. I guess he had more desire to come than I thought.”
"I see you're from Backupsmore," you leaned closer to Ford, trying to get your voice across. He couldn't help but inhale the freshness of your sweet musk, still dormant amid so much sweat and cigarette around. "How did both of you get here?”
“I-I don't get that question…”
Ford looked intently at the way you bit your lip, nervous again. You walked away almost immediately to his regret.
With one free hand, and leaving the beer bottle on the edge of a table beside you, you pointed towards the outer courtyard of the brotherhood. Stanford almost stumbles from shame—he didn't hesitate for a second to follow you like a dog.
This time the music was much weaker.
"I don't want the question to be received badly," you hastened to clarify, shaking both hands in front of you. "It's not usual for people from other universities to be here, that's all.”
"Are you a recurrent of these parties?”
Ford let out a cracking laugh, running one of his hands down his neck to dissipate the sweat. "Yes, my friend also dragged me here.”
There were still people around, but not as many as those who passed through the brotherhood. Without the disturbance of the masses, and without the music bursting over their heads, Ford and you found another corner to share glances and a pleasant talk; entertaining enough for both to forget about the shame. A ridiculous pity.
Pines tried not to lose his breath every time you returned the smiles. At no time, no matter how hard he tried, did you lose the thread of the conversation. You were an automatic machine of concrete answers. You gesticulated a lot, passing the weight of your body from one leg to the other; your eyes went from one direction to another, resting on imaginary points in the midst of darkness; your voice never wavered, your mind perhaps devoured by the charm of science. That was it: pure science. Nothing Ford didn't understand—though every time his gaze met yours, it was as if his brain was fried.
He couldn't let himself down so easily.
"What do you specialize in?" he suddenly asked. "You have such interesting ideas as to be wasting time at a party."
You drowned a laugh against the back of your hand. Ford had to bite his tongue to keep from smiling.
‘’Did I say something funny?’’
"It's ironic that you say it," you replied. "That's all... But yeah, it's no big deal, anyway. I finished my thesis about two months ago,’’ you shrugged. "Fifth dimensional calculus. Nothing special."
‘’Me too, you say,’’ you smiled. ‘’Why is that? Big, smart boy got scared?’’
Ford rubbed his hands against each other, making it impossible to hide the smile that adorned his face. It felt hot. He wanted to think that this sensational discovery, this almost magical encounter, was stirring your heart as much as it happened to him in the midst of the icy breeze of the night.
He tried not to make obvious the need to open his mouth to bathe you in questions; Ford really wanted to endure the hunger to find out what else you held in that precious head of yours. But it was impossible. You didn't even hide your own interest. Your smile was to be far greater than his—though shyness burned in your eyes, and in the way your own hands trembled.
Pines really wanted to think that it was nerves and not cold.
"I didn't think someone so pretty could know so much about science," he muttered through his teeth. The way your face subtly changed made him choke on his own saliva. "I don't want it to be an insult!"
"Sounds like you're underestimating a couple of issues right now."
"That wasn't my—’’ Ford let out a heavy sigh, covering his face with both hands for a moment. Your laughter made him open his eyes. ’’Aren't you angry...?"
‘’Not really,’’ you shrugged, ‘’just playing with you. Sorry. I guess I’m kind of nervous.’’
You and Ford laughed together; a soft sound, lost in the wind. He noticed your gaze searching his hands insistently. Shame struck him suddenly.
‘’I think they're cool,’’ you whispered, a little bit shy. Ford smiled at you. "Can I see them more closely?"
Almost pathetically, Ford stretched out both hands in front of you before you could get close. His fingers brushed your palms as you extended your arms, making room to wrap his hands. Despite the cold, Ford's body emanated an intense heat that melted into your skin. It was nice. You prayed that your heartbeat wouldn't reach him—that it wouldn't be so obvious how nervous you were to hold him in your hands, caressing his fingers like a fool.
"I've never seen anything like it," you added in a broken voice. "Not in person, at least."
‘’Do you really think it’s cool?’’
‘’I mean, yeah, why not? You’re different and that’s super cool.’’
Almost immediately you let go of his hands, and Ford found it hard not to complain about how much he had begun to miss your touch. You didn't back down this time, anyway.
‘’So, six fingers,’’ you muttered. ‘’That would be… Sixier?’’
‘’I have a name, you know?’’ he frowned.
"It's not like you told me."
‘’Stanford Pines. That’s my name.’’ Ford streaked, pushing his glasses along the bridge of his nose, trying to distract himself. The heat returned to his face immediately as he heard you repeat it out loud. ‘’Yours?’’
You gave him your name. Ford recorded it in his head as a magical melody that settled into his brain immediately.
"I haven't seen you around the halls of college," he added.
"I attend the neighboring university," you replied, "the one that remains going to the valley. I was late for the Backupsmore inscription."
‘’It's a pity; we could have made a very good research team."
The smile you gave him made Ford's heart clench in his throat.
"I don't doubt it," you nodded. "I'd have something better to do than be at this party."
"Well, you have me here with you," he said. At the same time, a choking laugh slipped through his lips like a painfully dry cough. "I mean, we're together—talking, I meant, sorry. Not that we're together, of course. Not if you don't want to, obviously. I'm not pressuring you, anyway, don't think that."
You let out a laugh, almost as nervous as he was. Nothing one could hide from the other; it was all very obvious, but neither you nor Ford dared to break the illusion. The night had already improved too much, and there was nothing that could change that fact.
The music of the party, once strident and annoying, was now a whisper in which the battery of the players faded at the same time as the farewell of most of the guests present. There was no silence; just a murmur almost dead and far away. Ford looked behind him, sighing.
"Am I going to see you again?" he asked, returning to you, unable to hold your gaze. "I wouldn't want this to be a final goodbye."
"I wasn't planning on leaving you anyway, Stanford Pines," you smiled. "Backupsmore is opening its winter courses for advanced engineering and ultra-subject studies. I don't know if you wanted to, you know, go with me... "
Your voice became small and almost audible as you noticed the gleam in Ford's eyes increase. His gaze lit up with your proposal.
"We could work together on the cellular anomaly contest!" he exclaimed. "McGucket, my friend, is in charge of system maintenance; me, from research and fact-checking."
"I can help!" you nodded almost immediately. A huge smile on your face.
You patted the pockets of your pants until you hit a paper ball. Ford looked curiously at the colorful letters, recognizing the place of the indications as soon as he had it in front of him.
"I work making drinks at the student center cafe," you explained. "You and your friend can go there tomorrow. On Saturdays we make the breakfast special for champions; since the team qualified and that. He's going to need it because of the hangover."
"I don't think he will want to go..."
You thought about it for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"Then come alone," you said. "It is you I want to see.’’
This time Ford held your gaze; as much as he could, eyes wide and cheeks rosy. He didn't squat as he took the paper from your hands, brushing your fingers, quickly putting it in the back of his pocket, terrified of losing the only way to find you tomorrow.
‘’See you Saturday, then?’’ you asked. ‘’You and me.’’
He nodded, smiling alongside you. ‘’You and me,’’ he whispered.
Just you and him. That sounded too good to be true.
